Friend
by Tango Fox
Summary: Nine months ago, Sherlock Holmes & John Watson took a fateful trip to Reichenbach Falls. While the events which took place were horrifying, the after effects were much more traumatic for both of them. One-Shot.


Nine months ago Sherlock had plunged off a cliff to his death.

The events leading up to the situation were very odd, and john Watson often found himself sitting in his chair, thinking things over, replaying that fateful day in his head. Thinking never brought any new information to light, nor did he provide comfort to the doctor, but nevertheless, he liked to remember. Whether it was for purely morbid reasons he did not know, but it was on a gloomy night in September, where he lit up one of Sherlock Holmes's cigarettes, sat down in his chair, and thought.

Nine months previously, both the men had been called away on a curious case in Switzerland. They had been contracted by an anonymous source over a bank robbery in the town of Meiringen. John was sure that if the case had not been so peculiar, Sherlock would have refused to take it, what with him knowing no details until they had both arrived. What they did find however, was extraordinary. They were presented with a high security vault, highly guarded and covered in the latest security technology. However, somehow, the vault had been emptied, with no signs of the assailant on CCTV, and absolutely no sign of an entry or an exit. The case left even Sherlock Holmes utterly confused, and they both spent days and days holed up in the hotel room pouring over details and facts, but to no avail.

On the fifth day, john had awoken to a text from Sherlock, saying he was on a visit to the local police station, but he expected them to both meet up later for a scenic walk to the falls, to relax both of their minds. John recalled the weather was bitter that day; he had dressed in his favourite cable knit jumper and a thick coat.

However he had never made it to the falls. Just as he was set to go and meet Sherlock, a young boy had appeared in his room, saying someone in a nearby house was in desperate need of a doctor. The boy gave him directions and ran off ahead, presumably to the ill patient. John had sent a text to Sherlock informing him that he was occupied, but he never received a reply. John had followed the young boy slowly and carefully, only to discover the directions had let to a completely abandoned house and the boy to be nowhere in sight.

Feeling extremely off put by the misleading events, john had decided to walk up to Reichenbach Falls, hoping to bump into Sherlock. He was not prepared for what he discovered. He was not greeted by tourists and local hikers as he expected, instead the area was teeming with police cars and ambulances, and completely cordoned off to the public. It was then, amongst the chaos and flashing lights that John Watson started to panic. It took him over half an hour to persuade the police to let him through the tape, and by the time he arrived at the centre of the scene, they were dragging two lifeless bodies out of the water. One belonged to Jim Moriarty, and the other, was Sherlock Holmes.

Everyone had assumed Sherlock was dead, even John at the time. It wasn't until he received a call from Mycroft the next day when he was informed that Sherlock was alive but comatose, and Mycroft had arranged for them both to be transported back to the UK. It was agreed that nobody else would be informed of Sherlock being alive, not when he was so vulnerable.

For four months Sherlock stayed in his coma in the best hospital room Mycroft could buy. In those five months, John never left his side. He had made himself a bed on the sofa in the room, and Mycroft had arranged for meals to be brought to him. He became ill himself from time to time, his limp came back worse than ever and his traumatic nightmares had returned. He tiresomely prayed for the day when Sherlock Holmes would wake up.

On the 26th of February, John Watson's best friend woke up. John recalled how he had wept that day, for he was beginning to believe all hope was lost. Sherlock was required to spend another month almost in hospital to recover, to receive counselling and physiotherapy. During this month Mycroft persuaded John to return home for a few nights a week, persuading him that Sherlock would not want to return home to find a sickly friend. For the first time in months John found himself out of the hospital, unsure at how to adjust back into normal life. However he knew Mycroft was right, and that he must but himself back at perfect health so he could care for Sherlock appropriately.

On the 20th of March, Sherlock was allowed home. John could tell Sherlock was pretending to be okay, but he just took it as nervousness and ignored his strange moods. They had both spent the evening in silence watching the television until Sherlock had skulked off to his bedroom to sleep. This behaviour continued for a few weeks. John had consulted Sherlock's doctors and they said the behaviour was simple to PTSD and John should just give him time. He understood. He knew himself all too well how such things affected people.

On the 15th of April John came home to find Sherlock sat in his armchair with his eyes closed, swirling patterns into his wrists with a pocket knife. John was angry at the situation, going as far as to threaten to have Sherlock sectioned. After Sherlock promised he would not do it again, John cleaned up his wounds and apologised for his rage. The cuts were not deep enough to cause any damage or scarring, they hardly even bled. It was evident all he wanted to do was cause himself pain.

Three weeks passed with no incident. Sherlock immersed himself with books and spent most of his time either locked away in his room or sat in his chair, which he had now faced towards the window. The men went days on end without speaking to each other. John had resumed work to take his mind off things, although it didn't really help much.

Four weeks after the first incident, John came home to find Sherlock sat on his bed, surrounded by various nooses. The doctor was horrified at his behaviour, while Sherlock protested profusely that he was practising knots for a paper he was writing on murder-suicides. John hesitantly believed his statement, although not fully, he knew how good a liar Sherlock was.

Two days later John came back on his lunch break to find Sherlock had poured acid over his forearms. His skin bubbled and burnt nastily. John had rushed him to the emergency room. When admitting him John explained to the doctor that he felt Sherlock needed to see a psychiatrist. While they were waiting, Sherlock sat calmly and peacefully, as if the incident wasn't odd. Sherlock had seen a psychiatrist, and informed him he was experimenting and the burns were an accident. The doctor ordered him to be more careful in the future and discharged him. From that point on, John became incredibly wary. Sherlock was becoming a dangerous man.

Two days later John had ordered Sherlock to sit down and talk to him. John wanted to know why Sherlock was doing these things to himself, why he was shutting himself away, and why he wouldn't talk to John. The detective calmly explained that John was overreacting, seeing things which weren't there, over-analysing the situation.

Sherlock became ever more reserved after that, almost as if he was a shell of the former man. John now had to force him to eat, shower and leave his bedroom. He had stopped protesting that he had work and experiments to do, instead sitting in silence, putting up no resistance. When on one tiring night John suggested again that Sherlock should be in the care of professionals, the detective snapped, and saying he would destroy himself easily if John ever did such a thing. He never brought it up again, seeing it as an idea which only made things worse.

A fortnight later John had been out buying milk. He returned home to hear a strange sound coming from Sherlock's bedroom. He found the detective stood at the foot of his bed, flogging himself with his riding crop. John had to physically wrestle with Sherlock to get it off of him. When he tried to take Sherlock to the hospital he became frantic and broke down, begging John to fix him himself. John gave in too easily, getting a medical kit and taking care of Sherlock's deep wounds with a steady hand.

From then on, John tried not to leave Sherlock alone. He did try to engage in conversation, tried to get the old Sherlock back, but nothing seemed to work. He began to notice that as soon as he turned his back, Sherlock started to pick and scratch and previous wounds, making them sore and bloody.

Nine months since Sherlock nearly died, the detective tried to repeat the experience. He had taken a full bottle of painkillers, filled the bathtub full of ice and lay in it, intending to die. John had found him just in time, or too late depending on how you see things. As soon as John found him an ambulance was called. He had dragged Sherlock's naked and limp body out of the bath, desperately searching for a pulse. He found none, and had to frantically give attempt to resuscitate Sherlock. He succeeded, and the ambulance arrived to take him to the emergency room as quick as possible.

Nine months since Sherlock nearly died, John sat in his armchair and smoked. He should have been at the hospital with his roommate. He should, at the very least, have been answering Mycroft's calls which he had been receiving all night. However he couldn't bring himself to do either of those things. He was told that this time, Sherlock might not make it through the night. He couldn't bring himself to face the hospital, to face a lifeless Sherlock, however heartless it seemed. He lit up another cigarette, inhaling the familiar smoke which he associated with his flatmates sneaky midnight nicotine breaks. He leant back into the chair and squeezed his eyes shut, allowing a single tear to escape his eye and roll solemnly down his cheek. He didn't have much hope for Sherlock's survival this time; because he knew the detective was past fighting. He too, felt done with the battle. He had lost the war nine months ago, and what use was a broken soldier fighting aside a destructive man?


End file.
